Page 2 of Breaking Storm

I purge the deep inhale. My entire body shakes from rage, frustration, and the fact I’m crying in front of him. In an effort to calm myself, my gaze takes in the sights of the bathroom. There’s a broken mirror, a cracked sink, and toilet paper and piss on the floor. It’s disgusting, reflecting the situation I’m in.

We lock eyes and I say, “You can’t make me. I’ll leave.”

The asshole backs me against the wall, wraps a hand around my throat, and brings his face an inch from mine. “I’m not asking. I’ve built this empire and you’ve benefited from it. Great school. Shopping at your disposal. The finest foods.” Using his hand around my throat, he taps my head against the wall. “So, you’re either going to be a part of this alliance and marry Joey, or I’ll give you to my bodyguards when their sexual needs aren’t being met.”

I suck in a quick breath and say in an unsettled whisper, “I’m your daughter for God’s sakes.”

His daughter! And he’s willing to throw me to the wolves if I resist his orders. What kind of father does that? I hate him. I hate him with every fiber of my being. We’ve never had much of a relationship, but this… this is crossing the line. This shows exactly what I’m worth to him.

“What’s it going to be? Get married or become a whore?”

He drops his hands and steps back. I can’t even look at him. I’m sickened by his words and actions. We never got along, but until this moment, I didn’t think he’d use me as a pawn for his illegal activities. But who am I kidding? He has passed my mother around to his friends as a thank you, or congratulation, and she obliges, no questions asked. They’re both pathetic. I had plans to graduate, move away from this city, and root myself in a small town. Maybe become a counselor. Except my dad is tossing gasoline on my dreams, and this marriage will burn it to ashes. If I run, he’ll find me. And if he finds me, I don’t even want to consider what he’d do if he is willing to whore me out.

Through a quiver, I answer, “Marriage.”

He grabs my head and smashes it against his chest. “Good girl.”

Good girl.

Back at the table, James wears a smug smile while Joey’s face contorts into something primitive. He gives my father the deadliest glance before dipping his napkin into the water and wiping the blood from my face. I let him. Not because I have feelings for him, but because my father has sucked all my energy and hope, and it’s nice to see someone cares. From here on out, I’ll be someone’s property, because in this world, women have little say. They belong to and obey without argument. This black hole might suck me in, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to make it easy for them. I know one should learn to pick their battles, yet I promise myself to make my present and future one continuous battle. I can’t and won’t let them bury me with their sins. And if they do, people will remember me. I’ll be the one who they couldn’t break.

James claps his hands and says, “This is good.” He elbows my dad for confirmation, and continues, “The wedding will be within a month. There’s no time to waste. We already have wedding planners taking care of everything, so all you need to do is show up.”

I try to gauge Joey’s reaction, but he’s stoic. A scowl grips his face, and I realize now he’s been holding my hand. I slip it out from his and sit back in my chair.

Dad and James talk about the marriage and the alliance, while I think about my boyfriend, Ashton. How the hell am I going to explain this to him? I met him at college, so he knows nothing about my family life. We’ve been together for a year, and in all this time, we spent it at his place. The bodyguards my father assigned to me lurk in the shadows, and Ashton hasn’t noticed. If he has, he hasn’t said anything. Love isn’t the problem, because I don’t love him, but dropping a bomb like this in his lap can only hurt him. He’s been a distraction from the seedy world I grew up in. New and fresh. Untainted. I’ve appreciated our relationship, and my heart aches knowing this will cause him pain.

My head turns to Joey, who is staring at me. A man dipped in rawness. His appearance alone provokes a deadly scream. His eyes narrow, and he takes my hand again. I’m unsure how to respond or act when all I do is run away from people like him. And I’m supposed to marry him? Live in the same house? Share the same bed? I take my hand back, stand, and leave without glancing back. I head straight to my childhood park, where I used to go when things got overwhelming. Well, not only are they too much now, but they’re overflowing, choking what little self I have left.

On a park swing, I dig my toe into the dirt, and push off while the tears run down my cheeks. Chicago is still grasping onto winter, which dries the trail of salty tears before they’re able to fall. Somewhere in the darkness are my bodyguards. They know better than to get in my way, because they’ve experienced my anger through wicked pranks, which only makes their job strenuous. So, we have an agreement. Stay out of sight, and I’ll stop with the pranks and dodging their presence.

My hands press against my thighs, and the chair’s chains balance my head. A hopelessness squeezes at my chest. In one meeting, I lost everything. College. A future. I’ll be locked into a dead marriage, expected to please him in every way. Thrust into fake friendships. Loneliness holds the pieces of my heart. No one truly understands why I don’t want this life, instead, wanting college. The one person who has an idea of my pain and my reasons for a better life is Erin. Erin McCormick has been my only friend in this underworld, and for that, I’m so glad. I couldn’t ask for a better friend. The other women hate me, and the feeling is mutual. I’d rather pour lemon juice in a paper cut than spend five minutes in their presence, which unfortunately will become my reality. I’ll have to load up on lemon juice.

My phone rings, so I take it out of my pocket and read the message from Erin saying,call me. It’s been months since I’ve spoken to her. I’m wondering if she knew anything about this arrangement.

She picks up on the first ring and says, “Teagan, where are you?”

“The park.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Erin’s family is also immersed in crime. Her brother and father work for my dad. Thank God she has one of the sweetest mothers, who is constantly baking sweets, cleaning, and keeping busy. It is her mom’s way of distancing herself from the violence. I used to pretend she was my mom.

Out of all the other women in our criminal life, Erin hasn’t accepted it or caved to the pressures of what’s expected. Not that she has shunned it or wouldn’t do what her father expects of her, but she knows it isn’t a normal life. Unlike the other women, who look forward to having their husbands chosen for them, and living a life of servitude, Erin hopes no one will be interested in her.

I hear car doors shut and look up to find her and her bodyguard coming toward me. She stops, says something to the bodyguard, who then retreats. I love her. In her hand is a bottle of Grey Goose. The girl knows just what I need.

Erin plops down on the other swing, uncorks the bottle, and hands it over. She doesn’t mention the smeared mascara or dried tears. I take a couple of gulps and give the bottle back to her, accompanied by an appreciative smile.

After a gulp, she asks, “Do you want to talk about it?” I shake my head. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a pre-arranged marriage to Joey Cooper, would it?”

I grab the bottle back, swallow a couple more sips, and bite my lip before saying, “How did you know?”

She holds her fingers like claws. “The vipers… and my brother.” I give a halfhearted laugh. “You know better than anyone else that these viper women keep tallies on who is single and who is getting married. It’s like a brush fire. Once wind gets out someone’s about to walk down the aisle, the hounds track it and call a group meeting.” Now she’s really made me laugh. “And because every single woman in the Chicago underworld had their sights set on Joey, you’re going to be a hated woman.”

“Oh, you mean more than I already am?” I flick my hand in dismissal.

We both find humor in my comment and then settle down. I place the bottle on the ground and begin to swing. Erin joins in.

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